Working On Your Mental Health In Prison: 0/10 Would Not Recommend
Welcome to the TearDrop! It's been a minute (shoutout to my continual self-doubt and struggle with feeling like I matter), but there's been a constant voice in the back of my mind to start writing again.
I've found that ignoring these seemingly random internal pushes and voices is a big mistake (big! HUGE!). On top of that, the story I've been sitting on for the past few months is simply too special to keep to myself.
Today, I'm here to introduce you to Joemar and give you a little insight into his life. Currently, Joemar is in prison and has been serving his sentence for over a year.
If it's your first time getting the opportunity to learn about the prison system, let me paint you a little picture (it won't be Bob Ross quality, but you'll get the idea). By keeping in touch with Joemar, I've been introduced to several real-life stories about how the prison system actually functions (and, like, yikes).
Of course, everyone knows you don't have your freedom. But I don't think people understand the extent to which that is true. Inmates can't just get up and walk around when they want. They have little control over the food they get to eat and don't even get well-functioning basic toiletries when they're initially admitted.
There were even circumstances when Joemar couldn't call me because inmates would get aggressive over sharing phone time. On top of these stressors, you have to deal with (honestly impressive) petty rules that have seemingly been put in place with the sole purpose of causing additional discomfort.
This hardly scratches the surface of what daily life in prison is like. But try and imagine you're there. Imagine you're surrounded by certain people looking for trouble. Imagine you can't brush your teeth for a week because your cheap ass toothbrush broke and someone on the outside hasn't put money in your account. And imagine you can't simply do whatever you want.
I think a lot of us take fundamental personal freedoms for granted and don't realize how special they are. We can go outside and take a walk. We can call our family whenever we want. We can eat a salad for lunch and fuel our body properly.
For some of us, trying to deal with our internal demons healthily is an intense struggle. And we have our freedom. Picture basic liberties and living necessities taken away from you and attempting to better yourself under those circumstances.
That's what Joemar is dealing with.
"It's a battle with your mind every day. You either do something productive and better yourself or lay around all day."
When Joemar was initially sentenced, he was assigned to a maximum security prison (thankfully, he's not there anymore). And (understandably) his mental health took a hit, to say the least. Minimal time outside, subpar food, and being stuck in the same room for the majority of the day would cause anyone to diminish a little.
But eventually, my homie got to a point where he said to himself, "This is where I am, whether I like it or not. I have to accept that." At this point, Joemar got sick of letting his circumstances define how he was feeling and the state of his mental health. He started paving a new path, one composed of bettering himself in any and every way possible.
The hardest part about attempting to better yourself and your mental health while being in prison?
"Each day is the same. Same surroundings, same routine. It's easy to just lay in bed all day."
Routine, while comforting at times, is something most of us can fall victim to. Each of us has a choice when we first wake up in the morning; we can approach the day with a healthy mindset, ready to discover a way to find a little peace and happiness. Or, we can let the day take us, aimlessly dragging through our daily routine.
Saying I observed a positive shift in the way Joemar looked at and approached his life is a massive understatement. And my cousin's ability to seek out classes, literature, and people that would impact his life positively will never cease to impress me.
What's the TearDrop?
So, what's the point of this? I don't intend to make anyone who's living in freedom feel bad about their mental health or compare their progress to someone else's (trust me, I do this all the time). My intention in sharing Joemar's progress is to express that your circumstances don't have to define your emotions, self-improvement, or happiness.
Whether you're serving time in federal prison or trying to get your streetwear brand poppin' (or somewhere else in life), it's easy to slip into a state of numbness, fear, and depression. But one thing that gives me hope and helps me feel like I can conquer my internal demons is Joemar's story.
He's dealt with honestly inhumane conditions throughout his sentence, and that man ignited my soul with hope, positivity, and genuine connection every time we got in touch. Therefore, I know all of us can find some happiness and self-improvement each day (even though sometimes it's a little challenging).
Stay tuned for next month's article. I'll be diving into Joemar's take on the misconceptions and unrealistic mental health expectations society puts on Black men. He dropped several anecdotes I think everyone should hear.
All love,
Mack
Make a Donation
The TearDrop is an integral part of the DPRSD brand; these individuals help create our genuine community of love and empathy. For each story, Mack has an open conversation with the featured guest, elects a creative direction, and creates a narrative she feels best captures that person. The entire process aims to construct something powerful enough to accurately describe the complexity of our mental health. If you want to support DPRSD but our merch isn’t your style (we get it, no worries), we accept monetary contributions.
